Role Model
by spankingfemfatale
Summary: A Christmas gift for me! XD Dean can't help but do stupid dangerous things and Sam can't help but try to deal with it as best as they've been taught. WARNING! Fic contains non-sexual spanking!


This fic was written for me by awesomesauce Harlot_ohara! XD

Dean can't help but do stupid dangerous things and Sam can't help but try to deal with it as best as they've been taught.

Rating: PG?

A/N: Written as a Christmas present for Jenna. Unfortunatly, I don't think it turned out so well. So it's going to be more of a stocking-stuffer until I can come up with a story I actually feel proud of.

Warnings: Dub-con and non-con spanking, (w)incest.

Eleven at night had never seemed as late to Sam Winchester as it did now, with his brother hacking beside him in the rain. It had never seemed as black as with the thunder above them clashing loudly and sending waves of fear down his spine. He had never loved storms. He had never been able to sleep when it rained, never been able to push aside the fears that came so naturally whenever the night darkened so deeply and everything seemed to reflect the dark nature of the world. When he could, he avoided nights like tonight. He avoided being anywhere but buried under blankets, clutching a bible and whispering promises.

He didn't even want to face Dean now as they made their way back to the Impala; with the thunder grumbling loudly around them. The loud rumbling from the sky only seemed to compliment the older sibling's wheezing breathing and the grumbles that came upwards from deep within his breast. The sounds had been growing worse for a week, the grumbling purr that reminded Sam so much of a cat just sounded that much worse in the night; loud and aggressive like the noise a panther would make when its back was stroked.

He had told him not to go out in the rain with pneumonia settling in his lungs, he had even begged his self-important brother just to stay in bed with his pills and throw back cups of tea. He had told him he would be dead if he did it and yet the cocky asshole had done just that, in fact he had done it over him. The doctors had warned him to rest. For God's sake, even Ellen had warned him to rest with her tiny hand grabbing his collar and pulling him down to eye level. But as usual he just couldn't make himself listen to any of them because typically Dean thought that he knew more than the rest of them. In fact, as far as Sam could tell Dean thought he knew more than the rest of the world.

"We got it, didn't we?" Dean had finally sighed in clear exasperation when the silence began to overwhelm him, while his insistence that it was nothing out of the ordinary made his brother fume just a touch more. Sam slammed the door of the car loudly after he seated himself in the driver's seat and turned to glare at Dean, conveying as best he could his displeasure with the situation. The other man had the grace to look away, one hand coming up in that nervous way to rub at his neck while the other pet the Impala in apology over the slammed door. He coughed. Then he coughed again. So much for having gotten the fucking zombie, when you were putting yourself closer to becoming it step by step.

It wasn't often that Sam and Dean stayed so long in one motel room as they did that night in Illinois. They had been in this town for nearly a week now, working on their case with the usual dedication of their calling no matter how many stumbles had happened. Dean had gotten sick during the start of their trip and now would spend more time coughing and hacking into a Kleenex and doing more of the computer searching than he would have liked to do. Meanwhile Sam had worked mostly alone on interviews and the like. It was far from their typical adventures in that way and it had started to eat at the older Winchester sibling quickly. He would grumble short snappy replies to rival any fit he had ever imagined throwing in his childhood, and he would make snide comments that had really began to hurt.

This seemed to make him feel much happier than earlier that night. Having gotten out into the fight and having covered himself in the thick black blood of the already dead seemed to bring cheer right back to him. Sam could still smell the foul stink of it on his partner's clothing, see where it was visibly sticking to his short hair and smudged across his handsome face. He would have been wearing far less of it if he had bothered to tell his little brother where he was planning on disappearing off to. If he could have helped…if he could have been there it would have been much less risky. In fact, if he had only been there they could have had this done within an hour tops.

"Come on, Sammy…" Dean whined after the silence of their ride began to eat at his nerves. He wanted to be praised; he wanted his brother to tell him that he had done a good job tracking down the zombie and hunting it on his own. He had but that wasn't the point at all. He had always been like that, as long as his little brother could remember. He had always been fast to try to win over their father's attention with some idiotic death wish, or even just the attention of a math tutor or the school librarian with key questions. He had a great desire to be wanted and to be told he was a good boy. Too bad he wasn't a good boy enough to get that tonight just like any of those other nights.

Sam swerved into the parking lot of the motel with a quick pointed motion. As he turned off the engine, he let his own warm brown eyes meet his brother's matching set and was almost shocked that Dean drew back. It seemed like he could read the anger in his younger brother's motions and he could feel that this night wasn't going to end up at all like he had intended. "Dean, I'm not impressed." Same finally exploded. "You can't expect me to be. You fought a fucking zombie in the rain with pneumonia! You risked your life over your own stupid macho pride!" He said, watching that register on his brother's face slowly. "You know what, if I had done that you'd have torn me a new one. In fact, if you had done that around Dad what do you think he'd have said?"

"Good job?" Dean suggested, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck and not meeting his sibling's eyes. Sam glared at him, looking down at him as if to say that was one of the most stupid things he had heard from him recently. He wanted to think that it wouldn't have been true. Coughing, Dean decided to rephrase, he had given their father too positive an outlook. "Next time you'd better not drop the gun in the lake?" He laughed then as they both opened the door and walked towards their room. God, he was tired of the cheap flickering lights and the stiff green bedding. The light was still on inside their room and as the door closed behind them, he spoke again. "Come, on, bro…" Dean whined.

Shaking his head, Sam grabbed Dean's tense shoulder and looked down into his beautiful wanting eyes. God, Dean could see the puppy dog hurt behind all the huffy anger that his pretty-boy little brother put off. He had really wounded him by running off and killing that stupid old long gone professor without him. Sam shook his head in dismissal finally and went to sit on the bed, resting his head in his hands. This day was infuriating and the low wheezing that was coming from within his brother's chest was nerve-wrecking. There was no way that the three hour-long hunt in the downpour hadn't made that worse and there was no promise that he would be cured without some actual rest.

"Dean…just go take a bath, please." Sam whispered, wanting both for him to clean the foul blood off of his skin and possibly inhale some of the steam from the hot water. The doctors had told him to set up a humidifier, but they had never been able to actually find one. That may have been because they hadn't even really tried but they had both agreed this was nearly good enough to count. Hot steam and bath salts may not have helped Dean's masculinity, but they seemed to take some of the pressure out of his breathing. With a short sigh, he nodded then and headed towards the bathroom. He didn't seem dejected by the demand but certainly put off that he still had no idea when Sam would forgive him for the adventure.

Sam hadn't wanted his brother to see this and he had waited until he could hear the heavy pour of the faucet before he brought his hands together. When he prayed, he prayed for a lot of things. He gave his thanks for what he still had in his world, but he also prayed for his family's souls more than most people did, more than most people had to. Tonight it wasn't just for their souls, though. He wanted his sibling to be able to see how much he cared and to really understand it wasn't an attempt to hold him down and to enslave him. He loved Dean but sometimes he thought that there was a test of all of that, to see how far he could push him before he would lose his little brother again. He regretted the four years they hadn't spoken, but that wasn't going to happen again. He wanted him to know that.

Sam lay back against their bed when he was done and listened to the splashes of water sadly, watching the almost bright darkness that their motel room window offered. When the door to the bathroom opened again, he sat up, turning with his legs over the side of the bed to look at the other man. "Dean." He began, opening his arms when his sibling moved forward to be embraced, warm and still slightly damp in that way that only air could dry off. "I really am going to be honest." He continued as he held him close. "I'm really trying to be here for you, I'm trying to make a family for us and I know you are too. But we can't fill all of the roles that we have."

Laughter escaped from Dean's throat and he leaned forward to kiss soft brunette hair, running a hand across it lovingly. "Hey, you do a good enough job being Dad when you get pissed." He mused. "That silent treatment! Jesus Christ! I thought you were going to throw me across your knee when we got back and really let me have it." He teased. It wasn't but a few seconds before he was jerking forward in his brother's arms when a hand came down sharply against his backside. It wasn't painful so much as shocking and his eyes widened and he looked down at Sam. Was he possessed again? He'd never raised a hand to his brother like that before; that had never been his place.

"You know, that's not a half bad idea!" Sam declared, looking up to meet the shocked expression with a teasing smile. He couldn't help but be unsure if he should laugh; he actually could feel his brother's breath speeding in and out. So neither was really sure how serious or how much of a game it was when Sam repeated his first motion, cupping his palm enough that the smack was loud and stinging but not painful. That wasn't how their father had spanked them, but it was how Jessica had liked it. Gradually with each slap Dean's hands came down, holding onto Sam's shoulders tightly. His lips had parted in that artistic struck way that said he was unsure what he was doing and so Sam took control. He flattened his palm now and slapped him again, the other arm wrapping around his waist securely.

It was an odd hug, one that made Dean's hands grip his little brother's shoulders and hide his face in the warm hair. It smarted and he tried to move away after a few moment of it; he could only take so much of this from the same little boy he had tucked into bed at night for so many years. "Sammy, enough." He whispered. Sam shook his head and used the arm around his waist to pull him over his lap, maneuvering him to stay by using a leg to hold him in place. "I'll say when it's enough, Dean. You don't have any concept of that term, otherwise you wouldn't be coughing up your lungs right now."

Dean growled and let his hands push on the floor as he tried to move up out of the other man's grasp. The other man seemed to have known he would struggle and his grasp was tighter than was expected; he had really fucked up by teaching him so many good holds for hunting. "Damn it, Sammy! I'm going to kill you the moment you let me back up." There was rustling behind him and he could feel his brother shift before a sharper pain came down against his backside. Even through the fabric of his night clothing whatever it was actually burned. "That doesn't really inspire the urge to let you go." Sam said casually and the sharp pain landed against him again. It wasn't the familiar sing of a belt that came before, and Dean had to swirl upwards and around to manage to see what it was.

"A clothes hanger?!" Dean demanded in shock, holding back a cry that it wasn't really fair. He had never in his life imagined being given a lesson with anything related to doing laundry. God damn did it hurt though, and he yelped out a whine. His brother was really giving it to him now; it wasn't the tentative spanks from just moments ago. He meant this. Dean closed his eyes tightly and pounded a fist against the floor, letting out his anger against the cheap carpeting.

"You can't really do this! Sam, you aren't Dad!" He growled, his voice almost wavering with that declaration. Sam laughed almost sarcastically when he heard those words and he let the slaps come down more quickly. It was remarkable that of anything he could have said…that would be it. Sam threw the cloth hanger behind him and started with his hand again, speaking with a quick and clear displeasure. "No, but you know what, Dean. I'm not Dad because I'm spanking you for risking your life to kill a zombie, not for being sick!"

Dean wailed, his hands coming up to cradle his head as he shook it. He didn't want to hear that, he didn't want to be reminded of that. The father he knew was not the father that Sam knew; his father was a hero. "The reason I'm forcing these pills down your throat and choking you on tea is because I want you to get better, not as punishment for getting sick to begin with!" Sam exclaimed, letting four or five more slaps land against his brother's backside. He helped him up to his feet then and was shocked when strong arms were once more wrapped around him. "I just want you to be okay." He whispered finally, running his hand up and down his big brother's back. "I just want you with me for as long as you can be."

One of Dean's hands was pressed against his fevered cheek, seeming to try to hide part of his embarrassment as he nodded in agreement with the short lecture. "I know, Sam." He consented, still doing his best to ignore the words against their father; that he would never agree with. "I know you weren't trying to punish me when you made me stay. I know I shouldn't have just run off and left you, I get that…" He whispered. "I just…" He looked away as he spoke, letting his gaze stay steadily on the window outside. "I just didn't want you to do it. I hate putting you in that place when you never wanted this."

Sam wrapped his arms under Dean's legs and pulled quickly, bringing him forward to fall into his lap. He had his full attention now and he smiled at him sadly, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his brother's lips. They were sweet and soft like always, like they had been the first time he had tasted them so many years ago. "I know, too. I know you didn't want this to happen but it did. It happened and we're together now. That's how it is." Warm lips were on his again and strong hands were searching his body, fingers sliding up under his shirt. "And Dean…I don't have to be Dad to know how to love you."


End file.
